Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Djibouti and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Sam Rivers to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Divine Comedy,
Q and Not U,
The Martian,
The Dead C,
The Walker Brothers,
The Doors,
K-Klass,
Marcia Griffiths,
D'Angelo,
David Bowie,
The American Breed,
Gang Starr,
Section 25,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Man Eating Sloth,
Shoche,
Niagra,
Prince Buster,
Donny Hathaway,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Oneida,
The Barracudas,
Scientists,
X-Ray Spex,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sällskapet,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Second Layer,
Funkadelic,
Bootsy Collins,
Theoretical Girls,
Simply Red,
Neu!,
Cluster,
Bang On A Can,
The Birthday Party,
The Techniques,
Hasil Adkins,
Arthur Verocai,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Human League,
The Busters,
Skarface,
Moby Grape,
Model 500,
Sugar Minott,
Tubeway Army,
Blancmange,
Nik Kershaw,
Judy Mowatt,
Sight & Sound,
Kenny Larkin,
F. McDonald,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Toni Rubio,
Jacques Brel,
Swell Maps,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.